We meet Jasmine (Cate Blanchett) on an airplane. She’s talking ad nauseum, not so much with, but to the woman sitting next to her on this plane. Jasmine’s going on about her life, her husband, how she met her husband, her life and did I mention…her life?
It’s quite clear from scene one that Jasmine is a woman of privilege. Her clothes and accent, which exude North Eastern wealth, immediately give it away. The entitlement she radiates underscores this. By this point in the movie, we’ve learned that Jasmine is in San Francisco and she’ll be staying with her sister, Ginger (Sally Hawkins) for a while.
By the time Jasmine finally arrives at her sister’s typically tiny San Francisco apartment, the socioeconomic gap between these two siblings could not be more apparent. Ginger seems to resent Jasmine for what seem like obvious reasons and everything plays out alarmingly predictably during the beginning of the film. I can’t lie to you; I was worried for a moment. The moment eventually passed but it was long enough to linger and make me wonder where Woody Allen was going with Jasmine’s story. It wasn’t looking good, but in retrospect that was clearly the intent.
Turns out Blue Jasmine is the story of an obscenely wealthy woman that has just lost every materialistic thing, person and connection she has ever had. It’s all gone. Life has just dealt her one devastating haymaker of a blow with zero apologies. And Jasmine, all she’s left with is herself. While some might find solace within themselves, Jasmine is not like that. She gets lost inside. She can’t cope inside; she’s compromised inside.
The moment the screen faded to black, I was sure. My opinion of this film was so strong it materialized in an instant. During those two beats, while the screen was dark, just as the story ended and right before the credits rolled, that’s where I found clarity.
Blanchett expertly portrays Jasmine’s inability to adjust to her new life circumstances. Her fragility surfaces as her ability to function, deteriorates majestically on screen. Blanchett is mesmerizing as Jasmine. She does not give us a glimpse into the mind of a woman on the edge of madness as expected. Instead, she paints us a painfully precise portrait of a soul lost.
Sally Hawkins brings us a genuinely gracious and forgiving sister in Ginger. Unfortunately for Ginger, she’s the type of woman that tends to attract questionable characters into her life (like her mostly-absent sister). She can recognize this about herself, yet she doesn’t seem to want to muster up the courage to really change that. Hawkins successfully blends likeablity with vulnerability and comes up with a sobering version of reality.
Bobby Cannavale was a familiar face of undetermined origin, as I couldn’t place him while I was watching the movie. What I do know is he that he teetered artfully between passionate and threatening in his portrayal of Chili, Gina’s latest rebound boyfriend. Andrew Dice Clay brings us a surprising, honest, powerful and gripping performance. I wasn’t expecting this but I was impressed with everything he did on screen. Peter Skaarsgard brings us a smart mixture of sketchiness and over-eager swagger. The entire supporting cast really came through. Each of them was successful in adding remarkable depth to this story.
I’m going to be frank; I relished every moment of this movie. Woody Allen essentially pulled a Babe Ruth move here. He pointed to the bleachers, called out a home run for himself with this stellar casting and then proceeded to knock this one out of the proverbial park. San Francisco gets its moment to shine through Woody Allen’s eyes in Blue Jasmine and this tribute is genuinely captivating.
Some might say the story in this movie plays out rather unevenly and while I can agree, my opinion differs in that I feel as if the story played out in an appropriately disjointed presentation of anxiety and loss. In retrospect, I think that aspect of the film was intentional. Blue Jasmine is an unpleasant, but exquisitely crafted look into the life of a soul slipping into oblivion.
